


Till Death Star Do Us Part

by imperatrixxx



Series: The Mikylux Chronicles [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bloodplay (brief mention), Bridezilla!Hux, Canon-Compliant, Clothing Porn, Crack, Darth Tantrum and his Evil Space Ginger, Fisting (brief mention), Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mention of past Mpreg, Meta-crack, Multi, Watersports (brief mention), boot worship (brief mention), crack of previous crack, crack treated like crack, gelugrubs, post-TFA, reality television, rimming (brief mention), spitroasting (brief mention)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 14:26:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7442677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperatrixxx/pseuds/imperatrixxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s going to be the wedding of the millennium and the biggest reality show ever. After overthrowing Snoke and establishing a fragile détente with the Republic, the imperial triumvirate of Hux, Kylo Ren, and Dopheld Mitaka plan their big day. For Emperor Hux, it’s a propaganda opportunity, and he’s managing it like a military campaign. For Kylo, it’s just more Skywalker family drama, and for Mitaka it’s romance as usual with his two favorite idiots. The galaxy ships it or wants to see it go down in flames. Either way, it’s great for ratings. Featuring Bridezilla!Hux, everybody’s daddy issues (looking at you, Armitage!), and Leia who is 110% done. </p><p>This is part 4 of a series. It will make a lot more sense if you read <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6184615">Dangerous Liaisons</a> and, especially,  <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6191902/chapters/14185300">If You Wanna Be My Lover</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Till Death Star Do Us Part

 

Phasma was livid. The shiny taffeta dress was scratchy and covered in frills. Small blessing that she had persuaded Hux that silver complemented his New Imperium wedding color scheme – deep red, gunmetal grey, black, and subtle gold accents – better than salmon pink. She wished she had her armor, but unfortunately the ratings jumped every time she appeared without it. (She was particularly popular among the Nightsisters of Dathomir.) Even more ardently, she wished she had her blaster. Not five feet away from her, Emperor Hux and his future mother-in-law were engaged in a screaming match.

“I understand,” Hux shouted, “that the Death Star cake is a sore point for you, but you need to understand that it is part of _my_ cultural heritage.”

Leia looked like she was going to murder him on the spot. A cameraman was gleefully filming the entire exchange.

This was the seventeenth rehearsal dinner. Hux was approaching the wedding like a military campaign and, as he constantly declaimed, every detail had to be perfect since this wedding – symbolizing the fragile concord between the Hux and Organa clans ( _and the Mitaka clan_ , piped Mitaka when the topic was raised) – would be broadcast live throughout the galaxy.

Hux’s face had turned an intriguing shade of puce and a vein was twitching in his temple. He appeared moments away from saying something truly unforgiveable about the general of the _loathsome_ _resistance_ , when Mitaka materialized behind him, smiling apologetically at General Organa and squeezing Hux’s shoulders. He whispered something in Hux’s ear, which seemed to calm him down slightly.

Suddenly, with a rollicking yawp and the crashing of folding chairs, the Knights of Ren came galloping into the banquet hall. They were dressed in their normal style, similar to Kylo’s usual attire – a ragged cowl, and a long split tunic, belted at the waist over a long sleeved crop top and leggings – except that their current ensembles were sewn from layers of chiffon shot through with metallic thread. Each knight was dressed in a different rainbow shade and the diaphanous fabric floated dramatically behind them as they clomped along, with their glorious hair shining in the light.

“Did you choose the bridesmaid dresses?” Mitaka hissed at Hux.

“Obviously not,” Hux rolled his eyes. “I think Ren just asked the knights to pick out something tasteful.” He sighed. The knights were simultaneously ruining the wedding colors he had chosen and clashing horribly with the Darth Vader motif Kylo insisted on.

Kylo’s voice, meanwhile, could be heard whining loudly from just outside the door. “Dad,” he groaned, “I cannot believe you would even say that. That is _so_ lame.” The room fell silent. Had Kylo Ren just said _dad_? Kylo skulked into the room accompanied by an ectoplasmic Han Solo. “I don’t even know how you’re here,” griped Kylo, “how can you be a force ghost when you weren’t even force sensitive?”

“It turns out that midi-chlorians, or whatever, are sexually transmitted,” Han’s transparent face smirked.

“Ewww, dad, gross. TMI.”

“And some acts transmit it more than others, for instance, eating ...”

“ _DAD, I SWEAR IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP RIGHT NOW_!”

“You’ll what? Murder me in cold blood?”

“I hate you!” Kylo shouted and stomped off.

“Well, that went well.” Han shrugged at the assembled audience.

Leia sighed. “Han, stop riling him up. It’s hard enough as it is. He’s refusing to talk to me and now you’re stirring up more trouble.”

The ghost rolled his eyes. “I think he deserves it, don’t you?” He smirked as he floated off in the direction his son had taken.

This was going even worse than Leia had predicted. Her minimal ability at moderating the tense relationship between her son and erstwhile husband had evaporated entirely with Han’s death.

“General Organa,” a trim, smallish man approached, snapping her out of her reverie. His salt-and-pepper hair was combed neatly back and his immaculate black suit gave the appearance of a uniform.

“Hello,” ever the politician she summoned a tired smile, “do I know you?”

“Gottschalk Mitaka,” the man introduced himself, offering a manicured hand, “father of your future son-in-law.”

At that, Leia’s face broke into a warm genuine smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “How lovely to meet you. Would you like to grab a mojito? If Desdemona has left any for the rest of us.” The general and the elder Mitaka wandered in the direction of the bar where, fortunately, Desdemona Hux had already passed out. The high-strung wife of the late Commandant Hux had been dealing with the stress of wedding preparations by enjoying the complimentary cocktails a little too freely. They shoved her to the side and sat down on two vacant bar stools. “So,” began Gottschalk, an accountant by trade, “I’m a bit concerned about the Republic’s finances.”

Hux, meanwhile, had been listening very closely to this exchange about midi-chlorians and now a small sly smile curled the edges of his mouth. He surreptitiously raised one hand and tried to move one of the grooms perched atop the model of the Death Star cake with the power of his mind.

*

On one of the many sofas in the Finalizer’s holo-lounge, Ren lay sprawled across his fiancés. His head was in Mitaka’s lap and, much to Hux’s annoyance, his legs were draped across Hux’s thighs. Hux shifted trying to make Ren as uncomfortable as possible. He felt that such public displays of affection were _unbecoming to the imperial dignity_ , but, as usual, Ren ignored him. They could have been watching in the privacy of their own quarters, but the lounge had a giant holoprojector that Snoke used to use, and Hux liked to watch himself five times life sized.

“They fell in love in a time of war,” intoned the voiceover as the holo showed an image of TIE fighters and X-wings in combat, “and overcame tyranny to found the New Imperium from the ashes of the First Order.” A flattering official portrait of Hux, Ren, and Mitaka was superimposed on an old clip of the Finalizer, back when she was in better shape. “But will their families and the empire tear them apart, or can they forge a union that will unite the worlds beneath them? Find out next week on the galaxy’s highest rated holo-series ever, _Till Death Star Do Us Part._ ”

“Who came up with that stupid name?” Hux pressed mute as the credits rolled. He knew the answer already.

“I did,” grumped Kylo. “I like the Death Star. It’s a pun.”

“It doesn’t make any sense. It’s highly unlikely we’ll ever build another Death Star, and unless we pulled a Tarkin and refused to leave when the inevitable resistance lowlifes blew it up, it wouldn’t part us.”

“So,” interjected Mitaka, skillfully changing the subject, “did you like the episode? I thought you looked very dashing in the grand admiral’s uniform.”

“It’s an emperor’s uniform now,” Hux corrected him, preening a bit. The episode that had just aired – the twenty-seventh in the series – had featured Hux being fitted for his wedding attire.

“Mmmm,” agreed Kylo absent-mindedly. He had grabbed the remote from Hux and had skimmed back through the episode to the scene, which he now re-watched in slow motion. The thirty-foot projection of Hux stood on a dais, dressed only in black knee-high boots, white breeches, and a sleeveless undershirt. As usual, a simple gold circlet sat atop his immaculately lacquered hair. The highly polished boots emphasized his calves and the white breeches clung to his slender thighs. A sea green twi’lek male flitted about him, wrapping measuring tapes around his slim torso. The camera panned around the dais, lingering lovingly on the small curve of the emperor’s buttocks and the shadowed hollows of his clavicles. One of the twi’lek’s lekkus brushed a lightly freckled shoulder. Kylo shivered.

On the sofas further back in the room, a squadron of off-duty troopers threw back shots and woo-hooed, as they had intermittently throughout the episode. Hux felt vaguely annoyed that he had been unable to discern the rules of their drinking game.

“Do you think it’s right for the galaxy to see their emperor like this?” Hux asked, admiring himself on the holo. “It doesn’t exactly portray me as remote and untouchable.”

“It’s good. It humanizes you,” replied Mitaka, “plus you’re hot.”

“Mmmmmm, s’all good,” hummed Kylo in agreement, without taking his eyes off the scene. In a kind of reverse striptease, Hux was now being fitted with a white jacket, reminiscent of the uniforms of the Old Empire. The wide belt accented his trim waist, while padded shoulders added bulk to his form. Gold braid on the shoulders and a clinking collection of medals over his left pectoral signified both his imperial rank and military accomplishments, such as they were. Hux stood, chin tilted up, eyes distant, as if he were before the assembled citizens of the galaxy and not in a fitting room on Coruscant. The twi’lek smoothed the fabric over his chest and hips. Hux was a model of imperial dignity, a marble statue of an emperor.

The twi’lek draped the floor-length cape over Hux’s shoulders. The metallic fabric flowed and pooled about Hux, flashing with light, like the ocean at sunset. Kylo hit pause and stared at his fiancé incredulously. “Wait, is that gold lamé?”

Several Troopers snickered quietly to themselves and took another shot.

Broadcasting the _wedding of the millennium_ to serve as a propaganda tool for the New Imperium, as he styled their empire, had been Hux’s brainchild. Turning the preparations into a wildly popular reality show to channel desperately needed funds into the empire was Mitaka’s idea. It had succeeded beyond anyone’s expectations and now there were product endorsements, collectible plates, tote bags, action figures, and spin-off series in the works. T-shirts bearing the words _Imperium Scum_ were sold out across the territories of the Republic. It wasn’t, Hux opined, strictly grammatical, but he couldn’t complain about the royalties.

*

“So, how did you three meet?” Thanisson, recently appointed chief minister of propaganda, leaned forward in his chair. It had been his idea to incorporate interviews and reenactments of the triad’s romance into the series, and he now regretted it. The interviews, filmed in front of a small studio audience of Storm Troopers, always required heavy editing.

Kylo responded first. “Well, Hux and I were friends with benefits – well, really more enemies with benefits, since we hated each other, and one day when we were bored, we decided that whoever could seduce innocent little Mitaka here would get to tie the other one up.” ~~~~

“Tie him up?” Thanisson looked confused.

“Using rope. Bondage, Shibari, for erotic purposes,” clarified Mitaka. Thanisson turned bright red.

“You can’t say that on camera,” Hux interjected. “It’s not appropriate for younger viewers.”

“Right, blowing up an entire star system is just fine, but better not corrupt the children’s minds,” snarled Kylo. Being forced to be near his mother had put him in a particularly foul mood.

“Look, can we start over? I’ll answer the question.” Hux smoothed his already immaculate hair and fixed the camera with his unwavering blue-grey-green stare. “Ren, Mitaka, and I were all serving on the Finalizer. We appreciated one another’s talents and realized that our unique abilities would complement one another and help us bring order to the galaxy and defeat the LOATHESOME – ”

“That is the most boring shit I have ever heard,” interrupted Kylo before Hux could go off on one of his rants. “No one starts boning because their _unique abilities complement one another_. Ugh. That is literally the opposite of hot.”

“It doesn’t exactly humanize us,” Mitaka added more tactfully. “Maybe I could try answering.” He turned his deceptively sweet face toward the camera. “As an officer on the Finalizer, I was in awe of my commanders, and flattered when they began to show an interest in me. We were at war, and under a great deal of stress after the loss of Starkiller, and over many caf-fueled late night strategy sessions, our mutual respect turned into something more romantic.” He paused to smile warmly at his fiancés. “I can’t speak for them of course, but I found myself equally drawn to Hux’s brilliant tactical mind and Ren’s powerful force abilities. And while they might seem like terrifying, passionate, larger-than-life figures, they are also very sweet, very caring. They’re the kind of men who will conquer the planet that manufactures your favorite candy, just to make sure you have a regular supply of it.

The studio audience let out a collective _awwww_.

“That’s really nice,” Kylo squeezed Mitaka’s hand.

The younger man smiled back. “Some of it’s even true.”

*

Thanisson was already sweating profusely. Unamo, previously a petty officer, and now a production assistant, thwacked his arm under the pretense of swatting a mosquito. The cameras rolled. “Here we are on Felucia, a planet renowned for its tropical ecosystem and dangerous flora and fauna.” He turned towards Mitaka, who was seemingly unaffected by the heat and the clouds of insects, “Why did you choose this as the location for your wedding? It’s rumored that their imperial majesties – I mean, _their other imperial majesties_ – hate it.”

“Oh, they do,” he said cheerfully, “but I insisted. This planet has great sentimental importance to us. The so-called Supreme Leader had ordered it to be destroyed, and, as you can see, that would have been a travesty,” Mitaka indicated the vibrant array of plants and animal life that surrounded them, “as well as a massive waste of resources.” A huge, transparent gelugrub slid by. “It had always been one of my favorite planets, so I asked Ren and Hux to preserve it.”

“So, Felucia is symbolic of the moment that their majesties chose to defy Snoke for you? In effect, the moment that they transferred their allegiance to you?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that at all,” Mitaka smiled and blushed in his charmingly self-deprecating way. He always seemed slightly uncomfortable in the spotlight. “It represents their choosing to exercise their own enlightened leadership instead of enforcing Snoke’s tyranny. That moment marked the decline of the oppressive First Order and the rise of the New Imperium.”

Watching the interview, Hux smirked. He loved being cast in a good light.

*

“Ben, can we talk for just a minute?” Leia moved to intercept the masked figure of her son.

“Can’t,” he shouted as he hurried away, “we’re about to film a scene for the show.”

Kylo and the knights were dressed in their combat attire, while Mitaka and Hux were wearing old First Order uniforms. One corner of the banquet hall – a vast transparisteel dome constructed for the wedding reception – had been turned into a sound stage. It was currently decorated with a number of fake rocks and a throne (actually a plastic chair spray-painted grey) to stand in for the Snokadel, as Snoke’s fortress had been known. ~~~~

“Mrs Hux, if you would just sit here.” Unamo hefted Desdemona onto the chair. ~~~~

“What the kriff is she doing here?” hissed Hux. I distinctly remember my mother _NOT_ being present during this pivotal moment of history."

“We just need someone to fill in for Snoke,” Unamo explained apologetically as she stuck a network of reflective dots to Desdemona’s face. “They’ll use motion capture and then CGI her into him in post production. She has the right basic look and demeanor.”

“Who am I meant to be? Snope, Snake?” Desdemona looked confused. The cameraman zoomed in on her. He loved Desdemona almost as much as he loved unnecessarily lingering shots of emperor Hux. Both were great for ratings.  

“Don’t worry, you’ll be great,” Unamo assured her, handing her another mojito.

“This scene,” Thanisson addressed the cast and crew, “is the most important flashback of all. Here we see the triumvirs defeating the ancient wizened evil – he indicated Desdemona who was draped over the chair in a reasonable impersonation of Snoke – using only their love for one another.”

“How delightful!” commented Han, who had wafted in uninvited. “My psychopathic son demonstrating the power of love!”

“Actually, it really wasn’t love,” Kylo retorted angrily.

“It wasn’t,” agreed Mitaka. “After Snoke defeated Kylo and the knights, he invaded my mind and saw a series of images that he was unable to process and that broke him.”

“Right, but those were the images of the three of you in love, right?” Thanissson sounded worried. “This is the most famous moment in recent galactic history. The moment when love overcomes hatred and balance is restored. It’s the subject of 17 number-one pop hits and over 3000 self-published novels on the holo-net. This scene is the centerpiece of the whole series.”

Mitaka regarded him sadly. “Actually no, they were images of a sexual nature – a combination of memories and fantasies that I dredged up to horrify Snoke. Me being spit roasted by Kylo and Hux; Hux whipping Kylo; Kylo crawling across the floor to lick Hux’s boots – that sort of thing.”

“Kylo wearing a corset,” added Hux. “You really should do that more,” he turned to Ren. “You look amazing laced up tight.” It was the nicest thing he had said to Ren in weeks.

“Some blood play, some watersports,” added Kylo.

“Rimming Mitaka while watching a planet blow up,” Hux commented nostalgically.

Thanisson, his face a brilliant red, sputtered something about a PG-13 audience before lapsing into horrified silence. The ghost of Han had turned impossibly paler. “Boys, I think that’s enough,” he said, but the triumvirs, lost in reminiscence, didn’t hear.

“That time you dressed as Vader and Anakin,” said Kylo, his voice full of affection and longing.

“I’m sure we still have Vader’s latex fist somewhere,” said Hux. “Probably back on the Finalizer. The mask too, I imagine.”

“I think it was the vision of Kylo holding the infant that really did Snoke in. His grasp on biology was never that good,” Mitaka smiled in remembrance, “but he was appalled by the idea of a male human having a baby.”

“You _could_ have a baby,” a new voice joined the conversation. Desdemona Hux had propped herself up on the makeshift throne, her grey eyes twinkling malevolently from behind a wisp of silver-red hair that had broken free from her strict bun. “I can’t speak for _Kyle_ here, but you,” she stabbed a vicious talon in Hux’s direction, “definitely could. I mean do you think I pushed out a bastard like you? I had nothing to do with you at all. No it was all your asshole father. I don’t even know who your other father was. Not quite human, the Huxes, however hard they try to hide it from the Order.”

There was a loud thunk as Hux fell to the ground. For the first time in his life, he had fainted dead away.

The cameras kept rolling. This was going to be the best episode yet.

*

“Will the triumvirs finally tie the knot? Will Kylo say yes to the dress? Will Skywalker family drama tear the galaxy apart AGAIN? Join us in a week for the next thrilling installment of _Till Death Star Do Us Part_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the amazing neon_bible, the Queen of Kylux Crack, for beta-ing and making numerous excellent suggestions, which I have incorporated.


End file.
